The Simpsons: Another Life, Another Bart
by Cortana Hansen
Summary: A what-if fanfic. - What if Lisa's first word wasn't Bart's name? What if Bart still ran away? Now we see what could have been Bart's life, if it hadn't been for one single word. -On temporary hiatus, chapter five coming soon!
1. Prologue

Two-year old Bart looked at Lisa one last time, and turned away, closed his eyes, and started walking away. He walked away, bag in hand. Down the stairs, and out the door. And away. Away from the tears, away from the problems, away from _her._ Away from _Lisa Marie Simpson._

Bart felt the tears begin to fall. Everything was about her. Even his own parents didn't care anymore.

Bart scowled slightly. Homer hadn't ever cared. In fact, if anything, Homer probably wouldn't even notice Bart was gone. Never.

Always that word. _Never._

The word that stuck in the little toddler's head, day in and day out, ever since _Lisa_ was born. Ever since _she_ came into existence. Ever since _she_ ruined everything!

Bart could feel the seething rage flow through his body now. As far as he was concerned, he would never bear the name of _Simpson_ again! He would never carry the name of the family who ruined his life! He would never...

 _What's the matter with me?_

The question that had been lurking in silence, just waiting to be asked. It was enough to make Bart stop and think for a moment.

Maybe it wasn't because Lisa was cuter than Bart. Maybe there was another reason no one loved him. Was it because he was a burden? A misfit? A _mistake?_ Maybe that's why nobody cared. Because of what he was. A little monster. A little, scrawny, frustrating, and challenging monster.

And then the barely noticeable tears became a fountain of waterworks. Bart Simpson was the worst child in the world. There would be no one, no one to love him. No one...

Suddenly Bart felt a hand on his shoulder and a piece of paper being slipped into his tiny hands.

"I hate to see children cry," was all the person said before walking off.

Bart stared at the piece of paper in his hand. It was one dollar. A small gift, but it was comforting to know somebody did care for his well-being, at least a little.

 _Somebody cared!_

Bart stood up and looked for whoever gave him that dollar, that wonderful gift, but there was no one in sight anymore. The only signs of human activity was in a bar that had a sign labeled "Moe's." He wrinkled his nose at the thought of alcohol. He smelled enough of it whenever Homer opened a Duff beer can. And beer was the last door he wanted to smell.

But someone out there did care. He wasn't alone.

Bart looked at the dollar and hugged it close to his chest.

"I will never spend this dollar. I'm gonna keep it forever! To help me remember that somebody, somewhere out there, does care about what happens to me."

. . .

 **So that's the end of the prologue. Hope you all enjoyed! :) And sorry it was so short, but I didn't know how to continue without stretching it out too much. I'll try to make the next chapter longer.**

 **And sorry if this chapter is kinda dark. But with what Bart's going through, it has to be. I'll try to make future chapters lighter, though. And kudos to whoever guesses who Bart's "saviour" is.**

 **So, my usual question: any ideas for the next chapter?**


	2. Chapter 1

_Ten years later._

Bart pulled his slightly spikey bangs away from his face and sighed. This alleyway didn't look too promising in the way of scraps. Just a couple of trash cans and an empty dumpster bin. Seeing as the _dumpster_ was empty, it wasn't likely that there was anything in the garbage cans themselves.

But it couldn't hurt to look.

Bart took off the lid of one can and let out another sigh. It was completely empty. He checked another can, and had the same results.

Sundays were always hungry days.

As if to punctuate this, Bart's stomach started to growl. The scrawny pre-teen walked out of the alley and back into the street, watching people pass by.

The things _they_ take for granted are the things _he_ needed most.

"I really wish I had a Krusty Burger right now," Bart mumbled to himself. But those burgers were expensive to eat, except for when one found them in a garbage can, mostly intact (and if one's lucky, still in a box).

Bart wandered down the street, his ragged clothes clinging to his trembling, scrawny body.

Suddenly a blonde girl who looked to be about ten, and was carrying a bunch of books, approached him.

"Yeesh, you look worse than Nelson," she said, studying him.

Bart felt his face go read. "Yeah, well, you don't look so rich yourself!"

The girl frowned and said, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm just making an observation."

Bart looked at the girl a moment, trying to figure her out. There was something about her that nagged him.

"Yeah, whatever," he said. "Apology accepted, I guess."

The girl stuck her hand out towards Bart. "I'm Lisa Simpson. What's your name?"

Bart's eye involuntarily twitched when he heard the name _Simpson._ For some reason, it brought feelings of deep loathing. He ignored the feeling and took Lisa's hand anyway.

"I'm Bart," he said.

"Heh, that's funny," Lisa commented. "I had a brother named Bart but..." Her expression changed from cheerful to sad. "Mom and Dad said he ran away. We never saw him again."

"Don't you have pictures?" Bart asked, suddenly curious. He didn't remember where he came from, so he naturally assumed he was an orphan. But maybe that wasn't the case...?

"We did at one time," Lisa told him, "but we lost them in the flood eight years ago. That was the same day Mom had to go to the hospital for a concussion. She's in a coma. As for Dad... well, he took it pretty hard and is worse than ever when it comes to alcohol."

"Oh. That must be pretty depressing." Bart didn't really know what it felt like to have a loved one within reach, but at the same time, not really there. He didn't know sadness anymore. Nor happiness. He only knew pain and want.

"Save your pity," Lisa snapped.

"Uh, sorry?" Bart really didn't know what to say. "I've lived on the streets ever since I can remember- I never had any family to care about, or to care for me."

"Well, I'm very sorry for you," Lisa said sarcastically.

Bart shrugged, ignoring the sarcasm in her voice. "I don't suppose you could help me out."

"Oh, great! Are you going to ask for _my_ money?" Lisa stepped away from Bart, suddenly anxious.

Bart frowned. "Uh, I was thinking in terms of a place to spend the night. A couple of hobos decided to steal my box, and I've had to sleep on benches for two nights in a row."

Lisa considered for a moment. It would be nice to have company. Especially since Homer's almost always at Moe's.

But this kid was a complete stranger. There's no telling what he might do.

Yet, at the same time, Lisa felt sorry for him. He was alone, hungry, and had no family or friends.

Finally, Lisa's pity won the battle, and she said, "Okay, I think it'll be alright. Dad doesn't really care about guests."

"Hooray!" Bart fist pumped in the air, truly happy for the first time in a very long time.

And at that, Lisa smiled. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

. . .

 **And that's the end of chapter one! :) So, what do you think so far? Any plot holes?** **Constructive criticism is appreciated.**

 **Spoiler alert: things are going to get a little crazy and hopefully hilarious in the next chapter. I'll leave you to guess what's going to happen.**

 **Again, if you have any ideas, feel free to review.**

 _ **P. S. I might end up rewriting chapter one, but I'm not sure. Thoughts?**_


	3. Chapter 2

As soon as Bart and Lisa entered the Simpson home, they were hit by a ghastly stench.

"Ew..." Lisa put her hand over her nose. "Smells like expired fish sticks."

Bart shrugged and set his bag of belongings near the front door. He didn't smell anything. Of course, maybe that's because he was used to horrific smells. After all, most of his food came from the garbage. And that was better than no food at all.

"So it stinks a little," he said, frowning at her comment. "Better than no food at all."

Lisa gave him a disgusted look. Bart, not noticing this, walked into the living room to see a very fat man with a bald head and a scruffy beard lying on the couch snoring. A plate of unfinished fish sticks sat on his stomach, and several bottles of beer lay on the floor. There were liquid stains on the carpet, and the smell of liquor competed with the odor of fish gone bad.

Bart frowned. For some reason, the sight of beer cans made him feel... sad. Lonely. Afraid.

He shook his head of the feelings and looked at Lisa. "This guy's a total slob. Why's he here? He's clearly wasting food."

"That's my father you're talking about!" Lisa snapped. "Though you do have a point.

Bart shrugged again. What did he care if her father wasted food? It wasn't his problem. "So... where do I sleep?"

Lisa let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Follow me." She started walking upstairs, Bart following behind. Then Lisa approached the nearest door and opened it. "This is the guest room. The neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Flanders, helped me build it- even though until now, nobody's used it."

She gestured to the bed in the room and said, "And that's where you'll sleep."

"Great," Bart said, looking at it blankly. "But what is it?"

He vaguely remembered seeing the object before, but couldn't remember what it was called.

"It's a bed, doofus!" Lisa was rather annoyed with Bart at this point. "Before you do anything else, though, you need a bath."

"Why?" Bart asked, now looking at Lisa. "The lake in the park is good enough."

Lisa frowned at the thought of him bathing in the lake in that park. She'd never look at that body of water the same again.

"Well?" Bart waited expectantly for a reply.

"Well, for one thing, you smell bad. Not as bad as those fish sticks, though," Lisa told him. "But you still smell."

Bart laughed. "And what else? Do I have lice? Cooties? Fleas?"

"From the looks of it, no." Lisa crossed her arms. "This is serious, Bart. If you're going to stay here, you're gonna have to play by my rules."

Bart only laughed harder and responded, "I always thought that the adults were the bosses, with the way they scold their kids in the street!"

"Actually," Lisa said, "I'm the one who has to be the 'boss' all the time because my dad doesn't work. I have to work at that Retirement Home to get enough money for food and the bills. Where dad gets the money for beer, though, is still a mystery to me. He hasn't gone to his job the Nuclear Power Plant in years."

"From the looks of it, he hasn't even gotten off that weird thing in the living room for years," Bart commented.

"It's called a couch!" Lisa snapped, losing her temper. "I don't know what you expected when you came here, but I'm getting sick of your snarky remarks! I have to take care of my father and myself! I have to see dad every day, lying there on the couch, feeling sorry for himself while I have to toil all day just to make our lives decent! And you're no prize yourself, you baboon!"

Bart frowned. "Sorry. I was only teasing. I'll try to stop, I promise."

"Yeah, whatever," Lisa replied. "I'll show you the bathroom now."

She led him to the bathroom (which was across the hall), and pointed to the bathtub. "I'll show you how it works, and then you can take your bath. After I get you some clean clothes, because you're not getting back in what you're wearing right now."

Bart just nodded.

Lisa turned one knob on the tub clockwise. Crystal clear water came gushing out of the faucet.

"That's cold water," she said. Then she turned off that knob, and reached for the other. She turned it counterclockwise. Water came rushing out the faucet again.

"And that's the hot water. You'll have to leave the faucet on for a bit, so the tub can fill up." Lisa turned toward Bart expectantly, waiting for a comment.

"And if I have both thingies turned at the same time," Bart spoke after a moment, "I'll get warm water."

"Exactly," Lisa said.

Before she could continue, Bart asked, "Is that all?"

Lisa gave him a look and said, "No, it's not."

She pointed to a pair of bottles that were sitting on the side of the tub. "Those are the shampoo and conditioner. You'll have-"

"Look lady, I know you're trying to be nice and all in showing me all this, but I'd like to take my bath already," Bart interrupted. "So get me some clean clothes and lemme do my job."

Lisa let out a low growl and said, "Fine. Just wait here while I get you clothes."

She walked out of the bathroom, and came back in a moment with a somewhat girly horse shirt and a pair of pants. "Sorry if these aren't manly enough for you, but these are probably the only clothes that'll fit you, since you're so scrawny. No offense."

"Eh, I'll take what I can get," Bart told her. He took the clothes and set them on the floor near the tub. He looked back at Lisa and said, "Uh, you can get out now."

Lisa nodded and walked out of there, closing the door behind her.

"A thank you might have been nice," she muttered.

She was about to head downstairs to make lunch when Bart called, "Hey, how do I get the tub to fill up? I'm turning the knobs like I'm supposed to, but all the water is going down some funny little hole that's on the end here."

Lisa facepalmed and muttered, "This day can't get any worse... can it?"

. . .

While Bart took his bath, Lisa began making lunch. Which was basically peanut butter and banana on week old donuts from the Kwiki-Mart.

Lisa thought about her decision to let Bart stay with her and Homer. It was bad enough that she had to treat Homer like a baby- but to have an extra mouth to feed was a lot. Especially if that extra mouth didn't really have anywhere else to go.

She considered the idea of turning him over to some adoption place, so he could live a better life and not be a burden on Lisa. But considering the fact that Springfield didn't really have the best of parents, it was probably better for Bart if he stayed with her.

But what could she provide for him that foster parents in Springfield couldn't? A better education? There wasn't exactly a school called "Lisa Elementary." And she couldn't give him the support he needed. But nobody else in Springfield could really do that either. They were all such morons.

So was the answer to look outside town? Hardly. Springfield was the only place Bart probably knew well. He probably wouldn't want to leave.

Lisa set the sandwiches/old donuts on a plate on the table and wandered into the living room. She should probably clean up the mess Homer made with his beer and fish sticks. Picking up a bottle, she vaguely wondered why Homer ate those fish sticks, which seemed to have gone bad very quickly.

Suddenly she saw Bart's bag near the front door. His only belongings.

Lisa quickly felt curious. Maybe it had some clue at to where Bart came from. Maybe she could take him there. Surely his family missed him. She walked to the bag and opened it. There was very little in it. Just a few old toys, a drawing pad, a marker, and a dollar bill.

Lisa closed the bag and sighed. Nothing of use in there. She grabbed the last few bottles and threw them in the recycling bin. Then she took the plate of fish sticks off Homer's stomach, threw the fish sticks in a the garbage, and stuck the plate in the dishwasher.

Today was going to be long.

. . .

 **Hi, everyone! :)**

 **Anyway, just a note, at the end of each chapter, if there are new reviews, I'll copy and paste the review here, and have my reply afterwards. Just a heads up.**

 **So, here's the first review ever for this story, from pan with a plan.**

 **pan with a plan says: "This is actually very intriguing, I'd love to see what happens next!"**

 **Now, for my reply: Thanks for the review, I appreciate it. It's very encouraging. And I'll definitely continue the story, so don't worry. :) See you next chapter!**

 **P. S. Due to an error with my chapter update thing, I had to delete the next chapter. :( I'll have to start from scratch with it, because I didn't save the document for it...**


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